To Hear Your Voice Again
by Alex E. Andras
Summary: She had always been told, that when someone special and close to you died, that you could still feel them close by, beside you, there to offer you comfort. Sue's thoughts on the death of her mother and, later, her husband. One Shot.


To Hear Your Voice Again

It was the morbid silence that always got to her the most. The absolute, pitying silence, along with the pitying looks that always accompanied it, as if they could make everything alright, as if the words 'I'm sorry for your loss' would fix everything.

_They were children, seven and eleven respectively, and were in the cemetery. She had been brought a beautiful black dress, velvet and satin, with matching shoes and hair band. Johnny had been brought a smart black suit, with a dark blue shirt and red tie. Yet neither liked the outfits, Sue shuffled on her feet, and Johnny tugged anxiously at his shirt cuffs._

_"Stop that," Frank said gruffly, tugging Johnny's hands to his sides, he was himself quiet and still, clean shaven yet looking pale and tired, dark rings at his eyes from the lack of sleep he had suffered since his wife's death. Johnny nodded, and his eyes dropped to his feet, and he blinked blurrily for several moments. Sue scowled, sending her father a reproaching glance as she reached out for Johnny's hand, and gripped it tightly, holding it in silence as their mother's coffin was lowered into the grave._

_Johnny trembled now, she could feel the tremors running through his hand into hers, and she squeezed his hand gently, hoping that her touch could sooth her sibling. His eyes were filled with tears now, and Sue wondered what their mother used to do whenever Johnny was upset. What had she done to calm the boy?_

_Thinking of her mother, her mind took her to before the accident, her family was happy then, complete, the only worries were about schoolwork, money, or when Johnny did something stupid and ended up in hospital. She could remember, if she thought carefully, of her mother's arms around her, hugging her close to her chest as she cried after hearing that Johnny had once again been taken to hospital._

_Her eyes blurred with tears now, thinking of her mother made her feel sad, especially because she was already now beginning to think that she could not remember the feeling of her mother's arms around her, the smell of her mother's perfume, the way her hair tickled her face as her mum leant over her._

_The hand in hers startled her from her thoughts as the grip tightened on hers, and she blinked the tears from her eyes, and brushed the tears from her cheeks, and looked down at their entwined hands. Johnny was squeezing her hand back gently, returning the reassurance that she was giving him, and he smiled weakly, though it did not reach his eyes, and she did the same, letting him know that she would always be there for him, no matter what._

She was dressed in a long black dress, with matching jacket and shoes. Her brother was for once surprisingly smart; dressed in a black suit, with a white tie and black shirt. She was ignoring all of the looks she knew were being sent their way, only half conscious of the comforting arm of her brother around her waist, her eyes were instead fixed on the grave before them.

It was her fault, as far as she was concerned, if she had been paying attention to her back, instead of worrying about her front, then this would not have happened, and they would not be standing here.

She couldn't think, couldn't see past the coffin in the grave or the still body that she had held in her arms only days before. She didn't know what to do, and wished that someone, anyone would tell her that she was supposed to do, yet nothing was said other than the usual words, and all they did was fly by her ears, they would not stick, for they did not matter, they did not help.

The arm around her waist left it, and for a moment she felt even more alone than ever before, and this almost caused her to breakdown, to let loose a stream of tears that were just waiting to be let loose. But she had not tried not to cry all those years ago at her mother's funeral, and she would not cry now.

A hand slipped into hers, and she finally was able to tear her eyes from the grave to gaze at the entwined hands, her brothers in hers, and watched as his hand gripped hers, and gently squeezed, letting her know that, even though he could never be like Reed, could never even think about trying to get her to feel for him as she does for her husband, he was there for her.

That was all she wanted right now, she realised as she gently squeezed his hand back, it was for someone to understand how she felt, and to be there for her. It was in Johnny that she found this.

She had always been told, that when someone special and close to you died, that you could still feel them close by, beside you, there to offer you comfort. Yet she had not felt her mother's presence all those years ago, and she did not feel Reed's presence now. Tears again pricked at her eyes as she wished that she could feel him beside her, because she was already forgetting the feel of his arms around her.

She turned her head to Johnny, and smiled as he did, the happiness not quite reaching her eyes, but there to some extent, especially as her free arm gently wrapped around her stomach, and she thought of Reed, and even though he was gone, she still had a part of him, a piece of comfort from his that would always be with her, and something that no one else could give her. She had lost her mother, yet found a piece of her in her brother, and though she had now lost her husband, she knew she would find a part of him in the child she now carried.


End file.
